Eclogues

Virgil

Vergil. The Poems of Vergil. Rhoades, James, translator. London: Oxford University Press, 1921.

  1. and the green lizard hides him in the thorn:
  2. now for tired mowers, with the fierce heat spent,
  3. pounds Thestilis her mess of savoury herbs,
  4. wild thyme and garlic. I, with none beside,
  5. save hoarse cicalas shrilling through the brake,
  6. still track your footprints 'neath the broiling sun.
  7. Better have borne the petulant proud disdain
  8. of Amaryllis, or Menalcas wooed,
  9. albeit he was so dark, and you so fair!
  10. Trust not too much to colour, beauteous boy;
  11. white privets fall, dark hyacinths are culled.
  12. You scorn me, Alexis, who or what I am
  13. care not to ask—how rich in flocks, or how
  14. in snow-white milk abounding: yet for me
  15. roam on Sicilian hills a thousand lambs;
  16. summer or winter, still my milk-pails brim.
  17. I sing as erst Amphion of Circe sang,
  18. what time he went to call his cattle home
  19. on Attic Aracynthus. Nor am I
  20. so ill to look on: lately on the beach